A Decision Of The Heart
by a-broken-heart-still-beats
Summary: Rape .Ginny needs to learn to trust all over again but will she? Someone not too close to ther heart decides to help her out.
1. ripping

A Decision Of The Heart  
  
by a-broken-heart-still-beats  
  
Disclaimer: My first attempt at Ginny/Draco, but my brill mate fodmonkey said I should put it up, so this one goes out to her. I don't own any of the characters you recognise, but the plot is mine (if anyone has done this already let me know, I don't want to offend anyone). If you sue me, you can have my collection of old school jotters. It's all I own. The huge, non-existant profits I am making from this story will all go towards buying pressies for me and my invisible oompa-loompa friend Fred, and possibly the SSPR (Scottish Society for the Protection of Rachaels). Read, Review, and most importantly, Enjoy!  
  
I can remember it so clearly. The rough stone against my back, the cold wind on my face, his hands grabbing at me. That was the day that changed my life forever. And my knight in shining armour. How ironic. Of all people, it was him who helped me, excepted me for who I am. And for that one night, we are bound together. Something that runs deeper than love, hate, deeper than the gulf between our families. At first we tried to deny it, but it was inevitable. Fate brought us together, just as it ripped us apart again. So stick around for a while, and I'll tell you a story.  
  
It had all worked out so perfectly. Ron had finally plucked up the courage to ask Hermione to the Yule Ball, and Harry had told me I was going with him, and I had nobody else so I didn't bother argue. No matter how hard I seemed to try, I was just 'Weasley's little sister' to everyone. But I decided that on the night of the ball I was going to amaze them all, make them wonder why they didn't notice me before. If only I'd known, I'd never have gone.  
  
I looked stunning. I'm not one to fish for compliments, but I truly looked beautiful that night. Madame Malkin had really excelled herself with my new dress robes. The money was a present from Fred and George, who had plenty to spare with the success of their joke shop. I gave a little twirl, admiring the rustle of my full skirt. These were the latest style, more like Muggle dresses than anything. Mine was shoulderless, but with full sleeves, in a beautiful sea-green colour, and low enough to show just the right amount of cleavage. My hair was pinned up with a few loose tendrils framing my face, and a small dusting of glitter. Parvati and Lavender had done my makeup for me, just a little foundation with lipstick to start with, but they then decided to do my eyes as well. And I was amazed. They had added a light eyeshadow, a very pale silver, with a touch of eyeliner and mascara to 'emphasise my eyes' as they put it.  
  
I slipped on my matching shoes and began to descend into the common room with the rest of my dorm-mates. I spotted Harry, looking nervous and gorgeous. His bottle-green robes brought out his vivid eyes, and he had tried desperatly to flatten his hair, without much luck. I smiled slightly at him, and he gave me a quick wave. I was besotted with him, so much that I couldn't see what lurked beneath his wonder-boy exterior. But I learned the hard way, a lesson I will never forget. As they say, never judge a book by it's cover. Or in my case, never judge evil by it's disguise.  
  
I was having the time of my life. Everyone had said how nice I was looking, even people I had never met before. Harry had watched on jealously as I danced with several other boys, not just from Gryffindor but from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff as well. I laughed and drifted over to the punch table where Harry poured me a drink, scowling at anyone who tried to ask me for another dance. A slow dance came on as I finished my punch, and Harry led me out into the swirling masses of other couples.  
  
He placed his arms round my waist and I put mine round his neck. Why didn't this feel right? I had waited so long for this, but I was just the wrong height, slightly too short to lean on his shoulder. He held me very close, his hands creeping down slowly. The song ended and I pulled away quickly.  
  
"Lets go for a walk." I said breathlessly. Harry nodded in eager anticipation, and we headed out the doors. Why had it felt so uncomfortable to be that close to him? I walked faster and faster, like I was trying to get away from him, but he followed me, like a tiger stalking its prey. I reached the doors that led to the garden and pushed them open. I glanced round and found a concealed bench and quickly sat down. I tried to calm myself. This was Harry, my brother's best friend. He wouldn't do anything to me.  
  
I inhaled sharply as I felt his hot breath on the side of my neck. Go away! I pleaded silently, but he began to kiss me, his breath hot and ragged. I got up, but he forced me back down and turned me to face him. He smiled slightly, the moonlight destorting his familiar features. He bent his head to kiss me, crushing his lips against mine, forcing his tongue through my clenched teeth. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen! I fought against him, but what chance did I have? He tugged at my clothes roughly, not caring about the tears streaming down my face, soaking his hand that was covering my mouth. I tried to push his hands away from my skirt, but he swatted them away and quickly undid his belt. That was the exact moment I knew I would never be able to trust anyone again. I tried to scream for help, but none came.  
  
He finished quickly and stood up, rebuttoning his trousers as he did so. His eyes, those beautiful deep pools of emeralds, gave me a look that is normally reserved for something one of Hagrid's creatures threw up, and he left. I pulled my knees up to my chest and sat on the ground, crying softly. I had been used, and I felt horribly dirty. I was unfit to be in the company of other people, because I was stained. It was worse than being possessed by Voldemort. I had fufilled my purpose, and now Harry had simply tossed me aside like rubbish. Because that's all I was to him. My perfect night was spoiled, my life shattered. And it was all the cause of one boy.  
  
I watched Pansy's pathetic attempts at subtle flirting, but my mind was elsewhere. I had agreed to go on this walk with her for obvious reasons, but there was no love behind it. Every time we slept together, it made me despise her even more, because she knew but still hoped she could change me. Yet what future did I have? To get the Dark Mark when I graduated, and go on to serve Voldemort. I had no wish to do this, but I had been promised to the Dark Lord before I was even concieved. I knew my mother cried over this, but I had long ago learned to shut out these emotions, to surround myself in a wall of ice.  
  
Pansy was telling me something, but I had no idea what it was. I looked up to see Potter striding out from behind a large unicorn-shaped bush, and Pansy gave me a worried glance and fled after him. This was odd. I stood up gracefully and slowly and made my way over to where The-Prat-Who-Defeated-Voldemort-But-Can't-Brush-His-Hair had just come from. I heard a noise, like someone crying, and I was even more intrigued (A Malfoy would never be curious, it's highly un-Malfoyish). I stepped round the large greenery to see the Weaslette sitting on the ground crying. I was just about to make a cutting remark when I noticed several things at once. Her dress was ripped and rumpled. Her wrists were red, where someone had been gripping her. Her face was covered in tears, glittering in the moonlight. She was scared, more scared than I've ever seen her.  
  
I reached out to touch her gently on the shoulder, because she seemed unaware of my presence. She looked up at me, her beautiful eyes wide with fear, her pupils enormous, making her whole eye seem black. Emotions swirled in them. Pain, hurt, and fear. But I think that fear is not a strong enough word to describe it. Terror. Yes, terror is what was so prominent in her eyes. I knew immediatly it was something to do with Potter. The Weaslette backed slowly away, seemingly unable to take her eyes off me.  
  
I knew what had happened here. I hadn't even noticed her ripped underwear lying on the ground a few feet away, but I had felt the exact same when I had been abused. Worthless. I was beaten by my father for years, yet I had learned to deal with it, to block out the pain. But she had always been so trusting, hadn't she? Never thought someone like Potter would do that to her. You would think she'd have learned back in her first year, but no. She shuddered and another tear slid down her smooth cheek. Without thinking, I reached up and unfastened my cloak and draped it round her shoulders. She jumped as the fabric made contact with her skin, but she grasped at it and pulled it over her, letting out a shuddering sigh.  
  
I sat down on the bench behind her. I don't know why I did it, but I knew she needed help, and as far as I was aware I was the only person who could know what she was feeling. I was drawn to her, in some way I couldn't explain. And it would cost me something it took me so long to find. Love.  
  
Well, there you go, my first chapter. As always reviews are appreciated, but I do have a request: no flames please. I would like costructive critisim from people, otherwise I won't be able to improve. I did try not to make Harry too evil, or Draco too good, because that would just defeat the point. I don't know if this is the most original idea, but I swear I haven't deliberatly copied anyone! Ideas, suggestions, whatever, please put them in, and if you would like to recieve an email when I update this then let me know in your review. 


	2. burning

This chapter is dedicated to everyone who reviewed my story *hands out cookies* and to my brilliant beta reader. I've tried to take on board all comments that were made, and they were all very good. I'm all embarrassed from your praise! Thanks for all the ideas and suggestions, it's good for me and you, because then you get what you want! I forgot to add in my first chapter that it's AU, so I'm telling you now for future reference. Anyway, must crack on with the story. As much as I enjoy sharing the art of rambling, and I'm sure you appreciate it, that's not why we're here. Read it, review it, and hopefully you'll enjoy it!  
  
Draco's POV I don't know how long I sat there. I was back at Malfoy Manor, wandering the dark and unused corridors of my memories. I heard something, a distant noise struggling to penetrate the thick fog filling my head. And again. "Draco! Draco! I know you're not with Pansy, she's gone with Vincent. You'd better get out here; you know I don't like to kept waiting." Blaise. I shook my head slightly, trying to clear it of thoughts. The Weaslette was still sitting there, shivering and with a bluish tinge to her lips. I got up quickly and brushed myself down, my muscles complaining with every move I made. I hurried out from behind the bushes, to see Blaise tapping her foot impatiently. When she saw me she slid her hand seductively round my neck, knowing better than to ask where I'd been. She gently ran her delicate fingers over the nape of my neck, making the hairs stand on end. Her lips came up to brush mine, but the moment they touched I saw a sudden flash of the Weaslette, of the pain she was feeling. My eyes flew open and I pushed Blaise away roughly. She pouted at me, but realised she wasn't going to get her way and flounced off to find someone else. I looked around reluctantly, before heading inside to my room.  
  
Ginny's POV I was aware of someone shaking me gently. I blinked several times, trying to focus on the blurry shape in front of me. Hermione's familiar hazel eyes materialised, looking worried. "Are you alright?" She asked. No! I wanted to scream. I've just had the basis of my life torn to shreds! But what I actually said was "tired." It was all I could manage to get out. My brain seemed frozen, as did my muscles as Hermione helped me to my feet. The cloak still round me, my bruises hidden, like the mask I was using to cover my feelings. I followed her inside, and the next thing I knew I was in my dorm. I pulled off my beautiful dress, simply throwing on an oversized t-shirt and shorts and falling into bed.  
  
It was Tom. He was raping me, and I could feel the pain rushing through my entire body, fire that burnt and wasted away everything it touched. I screamed in agony, the noise tearing from my throat. "Why? Why are you doing this to me Tom?" I was wishing, praying for it to stop, for the comfort of cool darkness. "But I'm not Tom." And when I looked at him it was Harry, and then I was consumed in the burst of flames.  
  
I woke up; sweat pouring down me and breathing heavily. I looked around in the early half light, the normality of things helping to settle me. The steady tick of the wall clock, the occasional creak as one of my dorm mates moved in their sleep. I glanced at the large clock face. 5.30am. I would never be able to go back to sleep. The burning of the fire inside me had dulled, leaving a steady pounding ache. I got up slowly, careful not to wake my friends, gathered my wash things and headed for the prefect's bathroom. I had failed to make it is a prefect, but with Ron as one and Hermione as Head Girl, getting the password was hardly difficult. And no one would be up at this time anyway.  
I could see the pink-tinged clouds out the window; feel the fresh air on my face. But what I normally would have thought of as beautiful and romantic was totally lost on me. The world through my eyes no longer held that innocence, and the realisation caused me to feel almost physical pain. I turned from the window, my eyes blurry with unshed tears. I blinked them back and continued on my way, finally stopping outside a large door. "Rose petals." I muttered, and closed the door behind me as I went in.  
I stepped into the shower and turned up as hot as I could. The physical pain helped to relieve some of my mental anguish, but my torn heart would never be healed completely. I should have seen this coming, avoided it somehow. I was disgusted with myself, with what I had let happen. Why couldn't I be a stronger person, stand up for myself? But if I had done that, I would never have been possessed by Voldemort, would never have been through life as I know it. I was dirty, twice used and thrown away. And the worst part was that I couldn't do anything about it. In my second year at Hogwarts, after Voldemort was defeated, I was rejected by everyone. They thought I didn't notice the whispered conversations, the pointing of fingers. But I did, and I knew that it would be exactly the same if I told anyone what had happened between Harry and I. He was The-Boy- Who-Lived, and he could do no wrong. Half the school thought I was crazy, and I suppose in my way I was.  
I stepped out the shower, feeling no improvement. I felt as if a coat of dirt covered me, one that could never be washed off. I could see bruises on my body, handprints on my arms and wrists, large purple patches on my legs. I winced as I remembered the night before, and a fresh tear rolled down my cheek. I let it run its course, finally dropping off the end of my nose and onto the floor far below. I took a deep, shuddering breath and tried to pull myself together. I put on my lilac robe with shaking hands, ran a comb quickly through my hair and picked up my things. In the steamy warmth of the bathroom I could be who I'd always wanted to be. I was beautiful, smart, funny, popular and brave. I had played this game since I was young, and I truly believed it could influence my life. I took a breath and opened the door, stepping out into the cool corridor.  
And I stopped dead. I suddenly felt naked and defenceless, as if everyone could see right through me. And I knew I was none of those things. I was plain Virginia Weasley, quiet, odd, and an outcast. I now know that it was my low self confidence and distrust of other people that allowed Harry to get to me, to abuse me in that way. He knew I would never tell anyone, and he was right. I hate him for knowing me so well, and myself for letting him into my life. But it would have been hard not too, seeing as mum regarded him as another son. I slid down against the wall, my eyes swimming with tears and my face wet. I was so absorbed in thoughts of how my family would react that I didn't hear the familiar voice or see the feet approach me.  
  
Draco's POV I had woken up early, chased by the ghosts of my past. I decided to take a walk around the castle, to clear my head. I didn't know that what I would find would have the opposite effect. I had just turned the corner to the prefects bathroom when I spotted Weaslette slumped against the wall. Her hair was wet and she smelled faintly of something I couldn't quite place. This is your chance. That little voice in the back of my head said. She doesn't mean anything. She's a worthless Weasley, and one that's been made even worse by Potter. If that's at all possible. It added smugly as an afterthought. "What's the matter Weasley? Upset that when you go home to your hovel for the holidays you won't have a shower?" There. I had done it. She looked up at me, and a hand squeezed painfully on my heart. Why am I feeling remorse? I asked myself in wonder and disgust. I'm a Malfoy! Ridiculing people is what I do! The tears were fresh on her face; I guessed she was thinking about Potter. Had she known it was my cloak last night? I bent down to her level, about to threaten her if she told anyone. But what happened next was totally unexpected.  
Weasley reached out and touched my cheek, her eyes still full of tears. I was so shocked, I didn't move. Her hands continued to explore my face, her fingertips gently caressing my eyelids, my lips, the very tip of my nose. Yet I got the feeling she didn't know what she was doing, like she was in a trance. I was like a startled animal, not sure whether to stay or run. I brought my hand to my cheek, letting it touch hers. At that moment she blinked, her vision became focused. And she looked even to scared to scream.  
  
Ginny's POV I didn't know what happened at that moment, and I don't think I ever will. I was lost in a dream, until something scalded my hand. I snapped out my daze, to see Malfoy crouching beside me, his hand cupping mine to his cheek. That's when I realised. The faint smell of him. The same one as on the cloak. I remembered..  
  
*flashback* Light fabric touched my bare shoulders. I saw someone sit down. Someone with blonde hair. And they had stayed with me. *end flashback*  
  
"You..that was your cloak." I muttered. Why? Why did you care? I wanted to ask, but the silence was so fragile I feared if I spoke it would splinter like glass. I pulled my hand away, unable to bear his touch. His stony eyes bored into me, as if he could read me like a book. But I was written in a different language, one he had never encountered before. His eyes. Staring at me, staring the way Tom stared at me in my dreams. I shook my head slightly, trying to dispel such thoughts. But he was still looking at me. I tried to move back, but I was already pinned against the wall. Tom was looking at me through Malfoys eyes, the way he had looked at me in my dream. I could feel the fire, licking at my soul, starting to burn my heart. "NO!" I screamed, frantic with pain. I leapt to my feet and bolted, not caring as I hit my head on a torch bracket on the way past. I skidded to a halt at the Gryffindor door, yelled the password and ran inside straight to my dorm. What was happening to me? I sobbed into my pillow, my scorched and torn heart thundering as I cried myself to a restless sleep.  
  
Finally! My second chapter! Hope this lives up to expectations, I promise I worked very hard on this. Feedback is welcomed, with open arms and promises of chocolate. So review my good minions of HPdom! 


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